Joy
by Snapecharmer
Summary: After OMWF, Willow does a spell to make Buffy happy again. The spell backfires, and Buffy and Giles are left to deal with the Scoobies as children and Buffy's issues after her ressurection.
1. Where Do We Go From Here?

Joy

by Snapecharmer (Stephanie Biek)

Rating: PG, nothing more than the regular show.

Spoilers: Set right after Once More With Feeling - goes happily dancing off into the sunset from canon after that.

Summary: In answer to a challenge given by Daien, over a year ago, to make the Scooby gang young so that Buffy and Giles have to play parents to a bunch of toddlers. Better late than never, eh?

Feedback: I would love any and all fb. I have only wrote a couple short fics at the buffygiles website. This has taken me much hard work and patience to stick with it! or 

Distribution: Whoever wants it can have it, just let me know where it's going so I can drop by and say hi.

Dedication: To my wonderful husband, who, though not a fan of Buffy (AT ALL) has always been willing to listen to bits of this and help me out of tight spots. He'll always be my personal Giles.....If I can just get him to wear that tweed suit....hehehe

Chapter One: Where Do We Go From Here?

The television flickered in the background, illuminating five blank faces. After a few tense moments, one of the figures moved.

"Should we go out to her?"

"Sure, Xander, and while we're out there we can apologize for ripping her out of heaven. I'm sure she'll understand."

Xander turned hurt eyes on his best friend. "Willow, we all know it's not gonna be easy. But we have to do something."

"I think we've done enough," the redhead mumbled. Her girlfriend rubbed her back consolingly.

"Honey, you didn't know. None of us did," she finished lamely.

"We didn't know because we didn't bother to find out," Anya said bluntly. Xander shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

There was a crash as the youngest girl in the room leapt to her feet, knocking a lamp to the floor from the coffee table beside her. Dawn's face was pale, save for two bright spots of color splotching her cheeks. "You didn't bother to do a lot of things. Like tell the people who loved her the most she was being brought back in the first place!"

"Dawnie - "

"No!" she said, her voice rising shrilly. "I know why you didn't tell _me_ - you were afraid things would turn out wrong, and you didn't want to get my hopes up. But I figured out why you didn't tell Giles: you know that he would have stopped you! You should have asked him! He probably knew where she was the whole time!"

"Dawn."

She whirled around as a hand gently touched her shoulder. Staring up into kind green eyes, the girl broke into tears and allowed herself to be drawn in against his chest. The man holding her glanced up at the watching group solemnly. "It will be alright, Dawn, trust me on this." She quieted as he rubbed her back soothingly. "Your sister has been through a lot, but I've no doubt she'll be able to get past this as well." He pulled back so he could look down into the youngest Summer's eyes. "I know she's been a bit distant lately, but that doesn't mean she doesn't still love you. It's going to take time."

Rubbing her face, Dawn pulled away. "I know, Giles." He tenderly pushed a lock of brown hair behind her ear. "You should go to bed. We've all had a hard day."

She shook her head. "I don't think I could sleep at all right now." She turned and sank into the couch between Anya and Tara, ignoring Willow as the witch followed her with troubled eyes.

Giles stood still for a moment, his eyes drifting to the kitchen. They had been sitting in silence after getting back from the Bronze, each waiting to see Buffy again before leaving. The front door had opened and Buffy had strode through the foyer and past the living room. Without pausing, she had gone out the back door in the kitchen, the door closing with a firm click behind her.

"I should see if she's..." He stopped. Of course she wasn't alright, which was what he was about to say. But he needed to do _something_. He turned to go after his slayer.

"Giles?" a voice called out, halting him in his tracks. He turned back to Dawn, meeting her eyes. He waited patiently for the question he knew she would ask. "If you were here, would you have brought her back, too?"

Keeping his eyes on hers, he answered, "No, Dawn. I would have stopped them." The answer seemed to satisfy her, and she nodded slowly. Ignoring the others, he returned the smile and then continued into the kitchen. Reaching out for the doorknob, the watcher breathed deeply, centering himself before opening the door.

Buffy was huddled on the top step of the porch. He had thought initially that she might have left the property altogether, but had felt her presence instead hovering on the outskirts of his mind. Arms were wrapped tightly around the tops of her knees, her chin resting against them. She didn't look up as she spoke.

"What do you want, Giles?"

He closed the door behind him. "I rather think I should be asking that of you, Buffy." Careful to keep a couple feet of distance between them, he sat down next to her. Avoiding his eyes, she continued to stare out into the dark yard.

"Little too late for people to ask, isn't it?"

"Yes." His affirmation jarred her slightly, and her eyes met his briefly before skittering away. They looked so old, faded from what they had been before. Together, they sat in silence for a few moments, and he allowed her the freedom to say whatever she wanted. After what seemed like an eternity, she breathed deeply.

"The world seems so..." Buffy stopped, her face smoothing out as she felt emotions getting the better of her. Better to push it all down before she could feel them jabbing at her insides. Preferring the numbness, she breathed steadily, concentrating on her heartbeat. In, out, in, out. Ribs expanding. Collapsing. Nothing, it was all nothing.

"The world seems normal? Strange how it keeps revolving when you've had the rug pulled out from under you," he finished. Their eyes met again. "You've been through more than anyone should have to face in three lifetimes. To have this happen to you after everything that you've done to save this world...It makes me question a lot of things I held true over the years." Catching himself, he leaned casually against the railing, waiting to see what, if anything, she would say.

Buffy continued to stare out into the darkness.

"No one even knew," she whispered, her voice breaking. She was fraying, the distant persona she had built up breaking down faster than she had imagined it could. Under the patient gaze of her watcher, she felt stripped of all pretense. Why bother hiding anything past the debacle that was the last twenty-four hours? She continued, willing her voice to steady. "No one even tried to find out where I was, Giles."

"I knew," he said softly.

Caught off-guard, she turned wide eyes on him, aghast. He nodded slowly.

"Buffy, I could barely cope with the thought that you were - " A painful swallow. "- gone. After a while, I needed to see, to make sure."

"You did a spell," she said lowly. He caught her arm as she leapt to her feet.

"You don't understand, Buffy," he explained hastily. "I cast to make sure that you were safe. Not to bring you back - unless it needed to be done. As a watcher, as your - friend. I had to be sure that you weren't suffering."

"You didn't want to bring me back," she repeated hollowly. Her shoulders curved in. She had lost weight since she had been resurrected. Standing behind her, Giles longed to reassure her with touch, but was afraid she would run. Searching desperately for the right thing to say, he began to stumble over his words.

"I-I could see you...you were - everything was beautiful. I could see you were happy. I don't think I've ever believed in heaven as an actual place. But when I saw how radiant you were, how peaceful...I knew that's where you had to be. I would never try to take that from you."

She turned slowly, haunted green eyes meeting his. "Why didn't you tell anyone about it?" It was his turn to look away, his face coloring. She surprised them both by gripping his forearm tightly. "Giles, why didn't you?"

"I didn't do it for them, I did it for myself," he said quietly. "I could barely function without you here. I found a spell that would allow me to locate your essence, your soul, and I performed it. Seeing you happy, when it had been so long since I had seen you smile...It gave me peace, and the strength to let go. It still hurt, but I knew the truth."

He met her eyes, letting her see the depth of the pain he had carried. She stepped back involuntarily, her hand dropping from him. "Giles..."

He smiled tremulously. "I was able to leave here, where your ghost followed me wherever I went. I never thought to tell the others; I should have. And then I got the call. If I had known they would ever attempt anything so foolish, I would have stopped them. I promise you that."

She turned away from him. "I know."

Inside, Willow gathered the ingredients for the spell, making sure that the bathroom was locked securely before she began to cast. The book open before her, she silently prayed that this would make everything right. The witch desperately wanted things to be right between them. The spell would restore the happiness Buffy had before any of this happened, and it seemed to be the best solution to this problem. If Buffy was alright again, they could pretend nothing had ever happened.

The spell was titled Laetabilis, which, translated, meant joyful. It seemed easy enough, and it was for such a good cause. This would fix everything.

It had to.

She began the recitation:

"Polleo Hecate,

Beo Buffy

Adiudico Laetibilis

Praterea abund." She stumbled over a couple of the more unfamiliar Latin as she came across it. As the room brightened in a sharp flash, she felt it rush through her, and in that last second before the change, she knew she had made a grave mistake.

_Author's Note: The spell is translated, very roughly, as "Mighty Goddess (of Magic), Bless Buffy, Grant (her) joy, Hereafter abundantly." Forgive all the mistakes, they are completely mine!_


	2. I'm Sorry, Do I Know You?

Chapter Two: I'm Sorry, Do I Know You?

Outside, Buffy whirled in shock as the screaming began. Giles, who had been polishing his glasses in the uncomfortable silence, let them tumble to the ground, his fingers momentarily nerveless. Buffy stepped to the kitchen door, her eyes wide in fright.

"Dawn!" she called, and ripped the door off in her haste to get into the house. Giles was at her heels, reaching into his jacket for the extra stake he carried, just in case. When Buffy slid to a halt outside the living room doorway; he tried desperately to stop but hit her in the back, sending her stumbling forward a few steps with an 'oof'.

"Sor-"

"Oh. My. God." Buffy interrupted him. What greeted his eyes made him reach to remove his glasses to begin another frantic polishing. Too late he remembered they were outside on the ground, most likely crushed beneath his shoe in his panic.

Four toddlers, in varying states of undress, were crying in the living room. A dark haired boy was backed up against the wall, tears streaming silently down his cheeks around the thumb he had stuffed into his mouth. A wispy blonde-haired girl was curled into a ball on the couch, her shoulders shaking with sobs. The yellow shirt Tara had been wearing earlier covered her. The other two girls, both brunettes, were frowning fiercely at each other.

"Wuffy!" a voice called out, and Buffy looked down as one of the girls held her arms up, big blue tear-filled eyes beseeching. "Dawnie?" she managed, and the girl waved her chubby arms impatiently. Reaching down, she scooped the child into her arms, recognizing her little sister. Who, inexplicably, was quite littler than she had last seen her.

"What's going on here, Giles?" she asked him. The children instantly quieted and stared at them. Giles shook his head,

"I have no idea," he said helplessly. Movement out of the corner of their eyes alerted them, and they spun to see a small red headed bundle scooting down the last couple steps of the stairs and toddling past them, her face streaking with tears. Tripping over the remains of an adult sized velvet dress on her small frame, she approached the other children, eyes wide with fright.

"Willow!" Buffy and Giles said together. The little girl froze, and looked up at them slowly, eyes overflowing again with tears. Quickly the boy, who could only be Xander, darted forward and grabbed her hand, tugging her back against the wall with him. She looked at him and threw her arms around him, burying her head in his neck and beginning to sniffle.

"What are we going to do?" Buffy asked, her voice rising in pitch. So this is what a panic attack feels like, she mused idly to herself as her heart began to race harder.

Giles stepped forward, unsure where to begin. The little girl on the couch sobbed harder; and the other one stepped up to meet him, pudgy fists on her hips.

"I hafta pee," she announced. And then she did.

"I was right the first time," Buffy groaned. "I am in hell."

Young Anya smiled up at Giles sunnily. "You tall."

"Yes, I am," he answered, faintly.

"I want my mommy!" the girl on the couch sniffled loudly, sitting up. Her shirt slipped off her pale shoulders. Deciding there was a better place to start than with mini-Anya, Giles stepped past the smiling girl and approached the toddler cautiously.

"Tara?" he asked softly. She stared up at him with luminous green eyes. Crouching down in front of her, he was careful not to move too suddenly.

"Want my mommy," she repeated soggily. Inwardly Giles cursed. Tara's mother had died a few years earlier.

"My name is Giles," he said, thinking quickly. Obviously Dawn remembered her sister. It remained to be seen how much memory the others retained. The girl stared at him, her lip quivering. "Do you remember me, Tara?" he pressed her lightly. She frowned, her head tipped to the side. After a moment, she shook her head, but it was hesitant, her face confused. "It's okay that you can't remember," he assured the child. Pausing, he floundered over what to say next, as the child stared into his eyes expectantly. "Do you know how old you are?" he asked, as his brain began to whirl with possible spells and remedies. The girl nodded and held up five fingers.

"I free," she whispered.

"Three?" he repeated. She nodded again, and waved her hand slightly. Reaching out slowly, he curled her pinky and thumb down. "This is three." She frowned at her hand and then held up three fingers to Buffy as proof.

"Free," she boasted. Buffy managed to smiled.

"Very good, Tara," she said. "My name is Buffy."

"Pwetty lady," Xander spoke up, showing a dimple in his round face as he smiled up at her from the wall. Willow was now holding one of his hands and sucking her thumb, tears drying on her cheeks.

Buffy smiled at Xander despite herself.

"Some things never change," Giles remarked dryly. She rolled her eyes.

"Xander, do you know Willow?" she asked him. The boy frowned in confusion, looking over at the redhead.

"Stwanger," he pronounced wisely, lisping over the 'r'. But he let the girl huddle closer to him, and, apparently enjoying the attention, announced, "I free, too."

"Three," Anya butted in, taking care to pronounce the 'th'. He stuck his tongue out at her. She scowled in return. Dawn spoke up.

"I want Mommy!" Tara began to cry again, and Giles reached out to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes.

"Your mummy left you here to spend the night," he explained gently. "Buffy and I are going to babysit you all. But she'll be...back for you soon." His conscious pricked at the obvious lie, but he ignored it. Turning his head, he glanced at his Slayer to see her staring blankly at the child in her arms. Sighing, he stood to go to her and was stopped by a tugging on his pant leg. Two eyes stared up into his.

"No go," Tara begged him. Making a quick decision, he swooped down and lifted her easily. The child let out a little sigh and curled one hand over his collar, burying her head under his chin. It was at once an alarming and strangely comforting feeling to have a child in his arms. He couldn't recall the last time he had even been around children so young, or even if he had ever held one.

"Giles, what are we going to do?" Buffy broke into his thoughts. Glancing over the blond curls of Tara, he caught sight of Buffy's desperately unhappy face. It looked as if yet again he would be taking charge of the situation for her. In the back of his mind, a voice chided him for his pettiness. At no time could he ever see Buffy being able to handle a situation such as this, even before her most recent death and resurrection.

"A word in the hall, I think?" he murmured, and she followed him out. Turning, he faced her the front door. Their eyes fell on the children resting contentedly in each other's arms.

"What are we going to do with them?" she asked, her eyes wide with sudden panic. "I don't know how to take care of children!" Dawn was running chubby fingers through her sister's long blonde hair, soothing it down against her shoulder and then pulling fingers none-too-gently through the locks again. Grimacing, she made a mental note that if that's all it took to keep the girl quiet, she would offer that during her next starved for affection teenage tantrum. The mental image almost made her smile.

Catching the ghost of a smile flicker over her face, Giles rose an eyebrow in question. Instantly her face shuttered, eyes dimming in that damningly familiar distant look.

"I'm rather new to this situation myself," he said confessed honestly. "We take care of them for the time being, maybe put them to bed, and then I go through Willow's books to see which spell was used."

"So we're agreed it's Willow?"

"What else could it be?" he asked grimly.

"Someone really needs to revoke her magic license," Buffy joked lamely. His eyes were thoughtful. "So, just announce beddy-time and then research?" she added.

"It shouldn't be too hard to take care of them for a few hours," he said earnestly. "I mean, we've dealt with multiple apocalypses in the past. How much more difficult could toddlers be?"

A shriek cause them to turn. Xander had settled on the couch, diminutive feet sticking out over the edge comically. He had just helped Willow up to rest next to him. Obviously, memories or not, Anya didn't like being left out, and she was tugging a lock of the redhead's hair angrily, using it as leverage to climb onto the couch between the two toddlers. Willow was kicking out to no effect, and Xander had his hand flat on the intruding girl's face, pushing with what strength he had. The girl was undeterred, and continued her bullying by blindly grabbing more hair.

"Now, stop that immediately!" Giles said sternly, moving past a stunned Buffy to take charge of the situation. They froze, making a hilarious tableau of childish temper. There was silence, and then Anya ran forward and stomped on his foot. Being only three years old, it didn't hurt, but it certainly surprised him, and he jumped away from the red faced tyke.

"No!" she yelled obstinately.

Drawing in a deep breath, he struggled to find words forbidding enough to scold them into good behavior. Xander suddenly scrambled over Willow's lap and slid off the couch, his face screwed up in fright. Giving Giles a wide berth in his dash, he abandoned his new friend to hide behind the slayer's legs.

"Jeez, Giles, you have a natural talent for scolding," she observed. " I think you really scared him." She reached down to lay a hand on the boy's head, inwardly relieved she hadn't worn a skirt.

"I didn't mean to," Giles said, bewildered.

A hand yanked insistently on his pant leg. "I wet," Anya said. She held her arms up, apparently forgetting that she had just moment's before stomped on her business partner's toe in the throes of a temper tantrum.

"I think she wants a bath," Buffy ventured, setting Dawn down on the floor.

"Well, you're in charge of that," he said stubbornly. "There is no way on earth I am going to -" Xander stepped out from behind Buffy, completely naked.

"BATH!" the boy shrieked happily, raising his arms up and spinning around ecstatically. They stared, aghast, at the spectacle.

A loud snort broke the silence. Giles glanced in surprise at the woman standing before him. She threw a hand up over her mouth, but her dancing eyes gave her away. Xander continued to spin, his bare feet on the wood floor making slapping sounds, and he then stumbled around dizzily.

"I so need a camera right now to blackmail him with for the rest of his life," she guffawed

"I'm inclined to agree with you," he said mildly, amused at the sight before him. He was stopped from adding anything more as Anya pulled her damp shirt off and dashed up to Xander, only to be pushed out of the way by a now disrobed Willow. Tara squirmed in his arms to be let down.

"I guess it's baths all around, then," Buffy finally said, her eyes sparkling still. Only Dawn remained clothed, arms crossed stubbornly.

"No bath," she said fiercely, lower lip sticking out comically and struggling out of her sister's grasp.

"I forgot she was such a pain in the butt when it came to this," Buffy reflected. Wordlessly, Giles reached down and plucked both Tara and the reluctant Dawn up and headed for the stairs. Seeing the destination, Xander beat him there, followed eagerly by the other two children.

"Well, let's get this thing started. The sooner we get them washed and in bed-"

"No sweepy!" Xander announced enthusiastically, giving his butt a little shake to emphasize his point. Buffy snorted again.

"So it seems," Giles said mildly. "This is going to be a long night."

"You're helping me do this," she said pointedly.

"Yes, dear," he sighed.

Buffy almost forgot everything that had taken place in the last few weeks at the hilarious sight before her eyes as they trooped up the stairs. The girls seemed happy to follow Xander as he bounced happily up each stair, giving his dimpled bottom a little wiggle on each step.

"I never knew Xander was so happy to have naked time," she remarked.


	3. Parenting 101

Chapter Three: Parenting 101

They reached the bathroom without further incident. Juggling the children under each arm, Giles managed to flip on the light. Wordlessly, Buffy leant over to kick aside the ring of crystals and herbs set in a circle on the floor, picking up the open book and setting it on the counter. She turned to the tub and flipped on the tap water, looking over her shoulder at the towel rack.

"I'm pretty sure we have enough for the whole crew." Glancing up, she studied Giles as he placed the girls on the floor. "You're pretty good with children, Giles," she observed.

He handed her the bubble bath and shampoo from the cupboard, shrugging self-consciously. "It's my first time."

Anya tried to pick up the large bottle of bubble bath, and it slipped from her fingers with a crash, bouncing on the floor and sending soap all over the linoleum. Righting the bottle quickly, Buffy set it to the side, rolling tense shoulders as she did. Tara leaned over and slapped her hands in the spreading lavender stain, her face brightening as the soap leapt up into her trailing blonde locks.

Buffy reached out and took her hand firmly. "No," she said. Chastised, Tara backed away and ran into Giles legs. The girl turned and threw sticky hands around him, burying her face in his knees. He realized too late that his pants were now coated in soap, and he sighed.

"Wonderful," he said. Buffy smiled up at him wryly.

"Sorry, Giles, but I'm not washing you too," she said.

He looked her in the eye and replied, "My fondest wish yet again put on hold." The slayer stared at him, wide eyed, and he began to smile.

"Giles!" she shrieked, and laughing, threw a towel at his head, which he caught easily.

"Does this mean you won't be my nurse at the retirement home?" he added mischievously. She shook her head and threw a bottle at him, which he also caught. "No sponge baths? After everything I've done for you?!"

Buffy collapsed against the side of the filling tub in helpless gales of laughter; and he joined in, delighted that he was the first person to bring that sparkle back into her eyes. The way she looked when she laughed, so alive, so youthful... He squashed that train of thought. It seemed that she suddenly realized what she was doing as well, because the light flickered and faded from her eyes, and she stared hard at the soap covered floor. Leaning over, she wordlessly began to sop up the mess with a towel.

Xander leaned over and began to help, spreading more bubble bath than cleaning. He looked up into her eyes worriedly.

"I help," he said, an anxious tone creeping into his words, and he scrubbed harder, his cheeks flushing with effort. She stopped him gently, and he looked up, his face filled with worry.

"I can do it, Xand," she said softly. He stared at her, confused. Reaching over, she took the towel from him, and he began to blink rapidly, doe brown eyes filling with tears. Taken aback, she looked up at Giles for help, but he seemed just as surprised as she felt. She stretched out and touched Xander's cheek, and felt a cold wave of shock hit her as he flinched away from her, eyes downcast.

"Xander," she managed through the knot of tears forming at the back of her throat. He looked up at her, his face miserable. She smiled at him warmly, trying to convey all the love she felt for him with that one gesture. "Xander, it's okay," she said soothingly. "You're not in trouble. No one's gonna hurt you here, okay? Do you understand?"

The boy nodded slowly, comprehension filling his eyes. He smiled at her shyly. "I stay?" he asked hopefully. She smiled and hugged him to her. Abruptly she let him go and fled the room.

The children stared up at the remaining adult, and Giles felt the weight of their stares like a ton of bricks. Freezing momentarily, he stared down at them blankly. The overflow in the tub began to gargle, and he leaned over to switch off the tap.

"Um, who wants to go first?" he managed. Xander waved his arm in the air and he lifted

him over the edge. "Now, sit down," he instructed. "Be careful." The boy nodded seriously and settled at the end of the tub. Willow began to scramble over the side of the tub, and he helped her in, decided that any damage was already done, as they had been naked for about ten minutes in front of each other anyway. Anya tugged on his hand.

"Me now," she instructed bossily, and he hoisted her over, thankful that the tub was large enough to fit them all in. Tara and Dawn stared over the edge with wide eyes, and Xander waved at them cheerily.

"In?" he asked the girls, and they grinned back.

"Alright, all of you then," Giles sighed, and lifted the girls over the edge, pulling their shirts off as they went.

The door opened behind them, and Buffy entered, her eyes puffy and red, her arms filled with clothes. Avoiding Giles concerned gaze, she set the pile on top of the counter.

"It's a good thing Dawn wears such tiny clothes, which, remind me to speak to her about that," Buffy said. "I figured we could slip them all into t-shirts and some shorts. They'd never forgive us if they woke up in their birthday suits next to each other."

"You've already planned their sleeping arrangements?"

Buffy nodded. "They'll fit into Mom's old room - I mean, Willow and Tara's. Biggest bed in the house and all. While they sleep, we'll go through this book." She waved at the spell book on the counter.

"No sweep!" Xander insisted, splashing the water with a hand emphatically. The children took their cues from his and began, as one, to hit the surface, sending a wave of water up to soak the adults as they knelt next to the tub.

Spitting out water, Giles slicked his hair away from his damp forehead. "I do believe that Xander will be detailing my car this weekend for that."

"Not to mention what I'm gonna do to Willow," Buffy growled. The children paid them no heed, and began to splash each other gleefully, their voices raising in cheerful laughter. Giles looked over at the woman beside him, taking in her bedraggled appearance: her hair was plastered to her skull, and what had been left of her eye makeup was now running down her face in streaks.

"Not. One. Word," she cautioned him. He nodded and turned back to the children.

"Stop!" he yelled above the din. The splashing stopped abruptly, and they looked guiltily up at him.

"Giles wash too?" Tara asked. She scooted over and patted the surface of the water near her very carefully. The other kids began to move as well, making room for him.

"No, I will not wash," he said firmly. "I think it's time to dry off."

Disappointed groans rose up, and he stood to help Tara out. Buffy held out a towel and began to dry her off. Lifting Dawn out next, he wrapped her in a towel and then turned to Xander, who was suddenly staring at his fingers, eyes wide in fear.

"Wook! Wook!" he insisted, panicked, holding out his hands. Giles looked dutifully, seeing nothing wrong. Frowning, he waited for the boy to elaborate. Xander shook them at him. "Hurt," he explained. Giles studied them, confused. Buffy leaned past him and took the proffered hand.

"He's all pruney, Giles," she pointed out. Smiling at Xander, she pulled him out. "It's okay," she reassured him. "It happens when you're in the water too long." The boy calmed instantly. Anya, standing up at the side of the tub, suddenly frowned at the boy, seeming to notice something for the first time.

Jabbing a finger at the boys waist, she asked, "What that?" She was obviously pointing at his penis, and Giles rolled his eyes in mild mortification. "I don' like that," she added wisely.

"That's not what I've heard," Buffy noted under her breath. Giles made a noise and then clamped his hand over his mouth. She stared at him. "Did you just giggle?" she demanded. He shook his head, and did it again. "You did! You giggled!"

Unable to suppress it, he let go and rested his head on the tub, hands dipped into the cooling water. "I-it's just...she doesn't l-like -" The rest of the sentence was lost in giggles, and Buffy found herself grinning in response to his fit. She helped the other kids out and wrapped them all in towels, drying them off one at a time briskly. Pausing over Dawn's snarled hair, she shook her head.

"Uh uh, I remember Mom trying to brush her hair. I just recovered all my hearing from those experiences," she said knowingly. Leaving it for tomorrow, she rationalized that Giles would have it fixed by then and Dawn could deal with it herself. Sighing, she grabbed the pile of mismatched clothes and began to sort through them with a critical eye.

"I think that I have enough shorts to fit all of them," she said, frowning. In her mind's eye she saw Xander as an adult, wearing the pair of tight spangly blue shorts she held in her hand. Smiling at the image, she held open another pair of shorts for Dawn, who balanced precariously with her hand on her sister's shoulders as she stepped into the leg holes. Once in, she folded down the top band so that it fit more snugly, and then grabbed a shirt to slip over the girl's head.

"There you go," she said, satisfied momentarily. Glancing up, she noticed Giles patting Tara's head down with a damp towel, doing an ineffectual job of drying it. "Might want to try a dry towel, Giles," she said. Caught off guard, he looked up from his work and glared at her.

"You keep dressing them, and I'll keep drying," he instructed her huffily.

"Whatever you say," she responded, rolling her eyes. She gestured to Xander and he shuffled forward, dragging his towel after him. "Now, what humiliating outfit can I put you in, hm?" she asked reflectively, groping for the blue shorts. Shaking his head, Giles made to answer but was interrupted by a knock downstairs. Buffy froze, glancing over at the children surrounding her and then back up into his eyes.

"Who could it be?" she asked, frowning. He held up a hand.

"I'll take care of it, don't worry," he assured her. "Just you take care to finish what you're doing, and I'll be back up in a moment."

"Just like a man, leaving the woman with all the hard work!" she complained. Smiling gamely at her, he shut the bathroom door so the children couldn't escape. Taking the stairs two at a time, he was surprised to find he was in a better mood with this latest of impending disasters than he had been since before Buffy's death.

Whoever it was now pounded on the door, and he frowned to realize that they weren't at the front door, but at the kitchen doorway, their form outlined in the moonlight. The door still lay on the ground outside where Buffy had thrown it in her panic. He met the stranger's eyes.

"Spike."


	4. Swallowing His Pride

Chapter Four: Swallowing His Pride

The bleach blond vampire stood on the porch, hand raised to knock on the doorframe again. After a surprised moment, he let his hand fall by his side. "What happened to the door, mate?"

"Buffy - There was a bit of a ruckus tonight. _After_ all the singing, that is," Giles amended. Spike stared down at the fallen door for a moment, and then back up at him, his eyebrow raised. After a few moments of silence, he made to come in.

"Is Buffy back yet?" he asked. Giles put an arm out, blocking his entrance.

"She is, but she happens to be busy," he said mildly. The vampire snorted.

"Rupes, don't give me that load of bollocks," he smirked. He frowned at the Watcher's outstretched arm. "Come on, mate, help a fellow out here. I have things to discuss with the lady."

"The 'lady' is busy," he said from between clenched teeth.

His tone gave Spike pause.

"Oh, I see how it is. Now that you've all finally sussed out the truth of the matter, you want to be at her side, all high and mighty? Well, don't forget who she came to in the first place!" he said angrily, the muscles twitching in his cheeks.

Giles dropped his arm, counting silently to five. "You were there when she needed someone."

"Too bloody right!"

"I'd like to thank you for that."

His thanks caught the vampire off guard, who blinked up at him, his head tilting to the side.

"You taking the piss, Watcher?" he asked cautiously. Giles sighed and stepped outside, picking the door up from the ground and placing it carefully back into position. It would have to do for now until he could get Xander to fix it. When he was old enough to heft a hammer again, that was. Waving at the stairs, he sat down, waiting for Spike to take a seat next to him.

"Believe it or not, Spike, I'm grateful you were able to talk to her," he admitted. Catching Spike's expression, he laughed without humor. "Yes, I'm there with you. I never thought I would thank you for anything. But it must have given her some little amount of comfort. And we all know she needed it."

Spike studied his profile in silence. "You knew all the time, didn't you?" he asked softly. Giles' silence was all the answer he needed. Jumping to his feet, the vampire destroyed all sense of calm, and began to pace back and forth angrily.

"Why didn't you say something to her?!" he accused him explosively. Giles raised his eyes to meet his. He continued on, unabated. "She needed someone here, and I gave her what I could. But you and I both know I'm the last person she trusts."

"In this case, that's not true," he interjected softly.

This stopped him in his tracks, and he dropped down to crouch in front of him in the grass. "Truth is, Watcher, that if you had been here where you were supposed to be, I never would have entered into the equation." The pain in Spike's eyes belied the matter of fact tone he used. "I knew it; she knew it. I just thought that after tonight things would finally be different."

"Tonight?" Giles asked softly, rising to his feet. "You think with a few songs and dances, you're finally worthy of her?" Spike straightened.

"Not just songs and dances, old man. Quite a bit more," he tossed off, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it with smug satisfaction. "Seems I finally warrant a little lip service after all."

Whatever else he might have added was forgotten as Giles slapped the stick out of his mouth with a glancing blow, his eyes flashing dangerously in his darkened face. Spike stumbled back as he advanced on him.

"If you've taken advantage of her-"

Spike held his hands up in innocence. "Woah, there, Rupert. The slayer kissed _me_! I was all set for the manly walking away, but she insisted on the big finish. Not to say that I was complaining, but you get the drift."

"The only _drift_ I get, Spike," he began in a menacing tone, "Is that once again, you happen to be there at a time when Buffy's at her most insecure. You insinuate yourself into the picture, waiting like the parasite that you are, for the right moment, when I-"

He stopped abruptly, breathing heavily. Spike's eyes widened.

"Ooh! I see how it is now," he said, gaining momentum. "Old Rupert feeling a bit of yearning for something a bit younger nowadays? Your bit of shag back home giving you the runaround?"

In a flash, he was on the ground, his chin throbbing from the blow. Giles loomed over him, his face a threatening shadow. "If you ever come near her again, I will stake you myself. And Buffy will be all too happy to see you go. Never forget that." With a whirl, he was climbing the steps, at the door before he could make the situation any worse for himself.

"Don't be too sure about that, mate," Spike called after him, enjoying the way the man's shoulders tensed under his sweater. "Like I'd been telling her last one, the overblown GI Joe: whatever you'd like to think, Buffy's needs run a bit darker than the flowers and white picket fences girl you have built up in your head. You remember that."

Without looking back, Giles lifted the door out of the way and put it back in place behind him with shaking hands. He had no idea why he had become so angry. After all, Buffy's life was her own to live. Spike hadn't treated her so badly as to deserve that kind of anger. If only he could get past all this, help her sort out the problems once and for all.

_And then what, old man? _An inner voice taunted him. _Go back to England? Stay here to have her walk past as if you don't exist? What do you want from her?_

What _did_ he want from her?


	5. Tell Me a Story

Chapter Five: Tell Me A Story

When he had climbed the stairs again, he found the bathroom empty. Turning towards Joyce's old bedroom, he could hear the chattering of small voices, and Buffy's voice over them, trying to quell them. Pushing open the door, he was met with the miniature Scooby Gang, all bundled up in bed together. Xander was at one end, with Willow next to him. Tara had wisely been placed in between Anya and Willow, as the toddlers seemed to tolerate each other as well as their adult counterparts did; which was to say not at all.

Buffy turned at the sound of his steps, her eyes wide. "Please, Giles, help me out with a story, will you? They won't go to sleep without one, and I don't think I can remember anything Mom used to read to us." Her voice took on that hollow tone again as her eyes dropped from his, her head turning away. Dawn was snuggled into her lap, chubby hand weaving clumsily through her older sister's hair. At that moment, it seemed to him that the comfort gained was all on Buffy's part, and he was loathe to take that small blessing away from her.

"Alright, let's see what I can do," he said gamely, perching on the end of the bed. Five faces swung to meet his, their curious gazes resting on him like a searchlight.

"Something decent, Giles," Buffy interrupted before he could open his mouth again. Arching an eyebrow at her, he smirked.

"Funny thing," he countered. "The only things that come to mind are dirty limericks."

"Giles," she warned, laying Dawn next to Anya, and pulling the covers up to her chin.

"There once was a man from Nantucket."

"Rupert Giles!" Buffy interjected, scandalized.

The bed creaked as he shifted into a more comfortable position. "Don't be so worried, Buffy. It was just a joke."

She snorted. "You'd better be joking. Just tell them something nice. A fairy tale."

"A fairy tale?"

The Slayer stood up, her brow creased as she crossed to the window. For a few silent moments she stared up at the full moon, and then back at him. "Yeah. White Knights, Fairy Princesses. Happy endings. You know the drill. Lie to them."

The half-hearted attempt at a smile that she offered him broke his heart. Rising to his feet, he took a couple steps toward her, his hand reaching out. A lock of hair grazed his palm as she deftly avoided his touch, maneuvering around his person and making for the door on light feet. Stopping just outside the room, she turned back, her face devoid of expression.

"Don't tell them anything scary," she whispered, and then she was gone down the stairs. Sighing heavily, he faced his silent audience. Their faces were grave, as if they were aware, with what little childish wisdom they carried, that what had happened was a bad thing.

"She sad," Tara whispered, her eyes luminous in the lamplight. He sat down at the end of the bed again, patting her feet through the covers.

"Yes, Tara, she is very sad," he found himself saying aloud. The child digested this and then raised her eyes to his again.

"Story?" she asked. Looking back toward the stairs, he found there was only one story he wanted to tell. He'd have to do quite a bit of editing, but it would have to do.

"Once, there was a beautiful princess," he began. The girls giggled, and even Xander seemed riveted. "She was the strongest girl in all the land, and she had a sacred calling that only she could perform."

"Say-cwed?" Willow asked, fumbling with the large word. He smiled kindly at her, his eyes sparkling.

"It means very, very important."

"Ohh."

Smiling widely, he relaxed, pulling his leg up under his knee, resting his elbows on his lap. He began the story, five enraptured faces hanging on his every word.


	6. The Never Ending Life

Chapter Six

In the kitchen, Buffy found herself arranging and rearranging all the dirty dishes in the sink She could hear Giles' voice murmuring in the background, and found that the sound soothed her troubled thoughts. Sighing, she began to relax her muscles, her shoulders dropping slowly, her hands unclenching. She knew if she stepped closer to the stairs she would be able to hear what he was telling the kids for bedtime. But a part of her whispered that she didn't belong with them. The innocence upstairs would remain that way only without her interference. It was what she had died to save. Joining them would only pull them all down into her personal hell. Accepting that fact was the only thing that continued to keep her distant from them all.

Giles had almost gotten to her. If she had let so much as a finger of his touch her, she knew all her resolve would crumble. He didn't need to know how much she needed him. Because she could do this on her own. She had to. The Slayer worked alone. Wasn't that what the first Slayer had tried to tell her months ago? And so it would be. This time around, she wouldn't be scrambling to save both the world and people she loved. It was hard enough to do her job. She didn't want to think about Dawn up on some sort of hell tower, being sliced open. She didn't want to see Willow and Xander broken. Even harder to bear was the thought of her Watcher, cleaning up another one of her messes.

"Ben," she whispered aloud. A shudder passed through her. Once glance down as she rushed up the final steps to get to Dawn had been almost enough to make her jump off straight away. The sight of Giles, his hand pressed resolutely over Ben's battered face. Ending the human life that housed Glory. Giles had become a murderer for her.

"Never again," she managed, her voice choked. This was her battle. Letting him close to her would only hurt him. They knew the truth about where she had been now, and would be rushing to be at her side. She wouldn't allow it. And after this latest crises was over, she would begin with Giles. She would send him back to England, his home. He deserved some peace. And there was no denying that the only thing he would find here with her was death and horror. It would never end.

The sudden paralyzing thought knocked her to her knees. No matter where she went when she died, the selfishness in her friends would make them bring her back, again and again. She was doomed to slay until her body was too old and frail to continue on. But Willow would have a spell for that, too. Pressing shaking hands against her face, she began to fight for breath, choking on sobs she couldn't allow to escape. So hard was her struggle for self control, she didn't hear the kitchen door being pushed to the side, or the rushed steps across the tiles to her side.

Strong arms encircled her from behind. The smell of stale cigarettes and blood reached her nose, and she quickly registered Spike's presence. "There, there, luv," he crooned. "It won't be like this forever."

"What do you know about it," she said harshly, pulling away from him. Standing up, she swiped at her face, turning cold eyes toward the vampire. He looked hurt.

"You're talking to a vampire," he said quietly. "It's kind of hard to forget being gone and then back again."

"I'm not a vampire, Spike," she managed. "I don't suddenly belong in your social circle just because I've visited Club Dead. I still happen to have a beating heart, something you've been missing for, what, 100 years or so now?"

"You could have fooled me," he muttered, reaching into his jacket for a crumpled case of cigarettes.

"What was that?"

Ice blue eyes met hers defiantly. "You've come back, alright. But you left your heart in the place you came from. We both know it. Tell me truthfully, do you give a toss for anyone in this house? For that kid sister you so nobly sacrificed yourself for? Your stupid gang of friends? That useless old man who pretends he still has a place at your side?"

His words struck her like blows, and she stepped forward, rage suffusing her face with color. "You shut up about him, Spike."

He snorted, tossing the pack down on the counter top. "Ah, now it's all coming out. Allow me to punch my own face down the back steps for you. I'd rather it be myself than the matched pair of Watcher and Slayer in one night."

"What are you talking about?"

"What, ole Rupes happen to forget to tell you it was me come by just a bit ago? Had a nice heart to heart, we did. Something I haven't had since we were Odd Couple-ing it years back in his flat. Ended pretty much the same as they always do, though, with me flat on my back, nose bleeding." He laughed shortly and stomped out of the kitchen and down the steps into the darkened yard. Buffy followed him.

Whirling once he had reached the bottom, he glared up at her. "I just hope you remember it was me you were kissing while everyone was singing the Hallelujah Chorus tonight. I thought you might want to explain."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned tiredly against the doorway.

"I'm sorry, Spike," she sighed. He paused, staring up at her with an unreadable expression. Gathering what little reserves she had left, she stepped outside and sat on the steps. "Thank you for listening to me when I needed to talk."

"Not like you ever gave me a choice, Slayer," he said gruffly, stepping closer to her. She smiled wryly up at him.

"I know. And you actually helped me a little bit, Spike. You really did." She met his eyes briefly and then looked away. "But what happened earlier tonight... It's not going to happen again."

He stared hard at the top of her bent head. Clenching his teeth against the rising tide of abuse the demon wanted to hurl at her, he settled for turning away. The words he had sung to her earlier came back to him suddenly. Break my chest indeed, he thought bitterly.

Her voice was beseeching. "I know what you want, Spike, and I can't give it to you. Do you understand?" She rose and stepped down to him another step. "It would kill me."

"Thought being dead was what you wanted, Pet," he said lightly, facing her. She wrapped her arms around her chest tightly.

"I don't have a choice in that, Spike," she said resignedly.

"You always have a choice, Buffy," he murmured, moving closer to her. Sensing his movement, she turned away and climbed the steps again.

"I have a choice _here_, that's all," she said, suddenly angry. "I can choose you or not. That's about it. Everything else I leave at the hands of the gang. They have my life planned out already. Slay into the horizon. The Energizer Bunny of killers." Her chest was heaving as she began to hyperventilate. "I don't have a choice. I never did."

At the end of the hall, Giles made his way to the kitchen, glad that he had gotten them to sleep. The sight of Buffy sinking to her knees outside the back door shocked him, and he ran to get to her. Spike and he almost knocked heads over her prone form, and he glared up at him.

"What the hell did you do to her?" he demanded coldly. Spike stepped away, hands held up defensively.

"Maybe you should be pointing the finger at those ruddy friends of hers, Rupert," he bit out. "No worries here, though. If this fit kills her, they'll just get in line at Resurrections-Are-Us and put in another order."

"No," Buffy moaned, and then blackness engulfed her.


	7. No Easy Cure

Chapter Seven: No Easy Cure

It was dark.

There were walls all around her, too close.

There was no air.

She couldn't breathe; couldn't think.

She threw her hands out and desperately beat on the sides, trying to form words, but nothing came from her mouth. She needed to breathe. Panic rose; her heart pounded in her chest. It was too loud in her ears.

She drew in air finally and shrieked.

Giles dropped the washcloth he was wetting in the sink and threw Spike aside in his rush to get to Buffy's side. She thrashed on the couch, eyes squeezed tightly shut, her mouth wide as she shrieked again. The sound lanced through his body, bringing goose bumps up to pepper his skin. The sound wasn't human.

Grabbing her arms in his hands, he shouted down at her in an attempt to drag her back to reality. "Buffy! You're safe!" Her convulsions doubled, and he planted a knee against her chest as firmly as he could without hurting her, transferring her other hand to his right. Normally he didn't think he'd be able to handle the slayer with one hand, but the terror in her screams, the sheer horror that filled him at the sound, was enough to give him the strength to bind her wrists together with five fingers against the couch. Reigning in all his courage, he grabbed her chin with his other hand.

"Wake up! Buffy, you need to wake up!"

She opened her eyes at last, her pupils contracted to mere pinpricks in fright. Focusing on his face, she shuddered deeply and then convulsed, dislodging him from atop her and onto the floor, wrenching her hands away from him. Spike hovered in the background.

"I'm fine," she said flatly, swinging her legs to the floor and running a hand over her face.

He began to pull himself up painfully. "Buffy, this nightmare -"

She cut of Giles' words with an abrupt gesture. "It wasn't a nightmare."

"Happens when you wake up in a coffin, mate," Spike said, suddenly glad to be of help. Buffy shot him a baleful glare and stood on shaky legs. Giles stood with her, reaching out a concerned hand. The slayer had gotten good at evasion since she had been back, and easily avoided the contact.

"Does this happen often?" he asked softly, trying not to feel the sting of yet another silent rebuff.

"Couple nights a week." Glancing back at him, she softened her tone. "It's no biggie, Giles. Nothing I can't handle."

"I think you've been handling more than enough," he replied, his face grim. He glanced over at Spike and changed topics. "Why are you here, by the way?" The vampire smirked and made to answer when Buffy interposed herself between them.

"We were talking, Giles, it's okay." She gave the blond a small smile. "I had a couple things to thank him for, and then I just got..." The words trailed off, and she stared hard at the floor. A noise above caused them to look towards the stairs.

"Wuffy?" a shaky little girl's voice called down the stairs. She dashed to the hallway, and Spike stared over at Giles, disconcerted.

"What have you lot been doing here?" he asked, baffled as Buffy returned cuddling a muss-haired toddler against her chest.

"Spike, I think you two have met before," she sighed. "This is Dawn. Aged three."

Silence was king.

"I was wondering where the Little Bit was," he began slowly. "But I had no idea it was...What the sodding hell happened?"

"Willow."

He cursed vehemently, and for once, Giles was inclined to agree with him. Buffy sat down on the couch, shifting the child in her lap. "I think I scared her when I woke up."

"And the others?" Giles asked, glancing out into the foyer.

"Others?!" Spike spluttered.

"Not a peep. Thank God for small favors." Dawn stuck a thumb in her mouth and, noticing the stranger, scooted off her sister's lap and made her way over to him. Feeling drained of energy suddenly, Buffy could only sit back and watch the show, shaking her head at Giles as he attempted to reach out for the toddler. Dawn stopped in front of the vampire and squinted up at him, her eyes still fogged with sleep.

"Who you?" she demanded as she pulled the wet digit out of her mouth. Aghast, Spike could only stare at her. The child patted her own chest and added, "Dawn." She then reached out and patted his knee, looking up at him curiously, treating him like a simpleton. Buffy snorted, and Giles found himself smiling slightly, though he was still tensed to leap to the girl's aid if she should need it.

For his part, Spike couldn't look away from the cherubic face presented before him. A part of him melted inside, not that he would ever admit it, and he knelt in front of her, his leather trench pooling around his feet. Eye level with Dawn, he answered her solemnly, "My name is Spike." The name seemed to displease her, and she wrinkled her nose at him, causing him to backtrack and quickly add, "But you can call me William, if you want." 

Buffy's mouth dropped open in shock at the tenderness in his voice, and glanced over at her Watcher to see if he was feeling the same. Giles' eyes were wide, but otherwise the only difference was that his shoulders relaxed somewhat, though he remained fixed on the couple.

"So, what's the deal here, Watcher?" Spike asked, tearing his eyes away from the scrutiny of the little kid in front of him. The man shook his head in frustration.

"The only thing we've had time to assess is that Willow did a spell."

"Yeah, and now we're Party of Five-ing it." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Giles met her eyes, raising an eyebrow.

"I could spend twenty four hours a day in front of the tv and I'd still be behind, wouldn't I?" he asked mildly. She shrugged.

"It's an ingredient they put in children's vitamins here, Giles. It's called pop culture. How many times do we have to discuss this?" she smiled faintly up at him. Encouraged by the smile, he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at her fondly.

"As many times as it takes for you all to recognize that I shall never get it."

"Yeah, like I'll never understand that whole Bay City Rollers thing you have going on," she answered dryly.

"That was a joke, you know," he smiled.

Buffy stared up at him in shocked silence. "You mean, all these years, I thought you were a great big nerd?"

"Don't see the difference," Spike interjected.

"Shut up, Spike," they answered in unison. She stood, her hands on her hips. "Do you know I actually downloaded a couple songs from the internet and listened to them?" she demanded, annoyed. He grinned at her.

"I bet you liked them."

"I - I did not!"

"Did so."

"Shut up!" She whirled away from him and began marching up the stairs. The glance she sent him over her shoulder showed no hard feelings, and he snorted. Spike shook his head and threw himself down in the nearest chair.

"So, Rupes, what's the plan?" he asked casually. Dawn moved to his side and stared up at him with large blue eyes, her thumb once again creeping into her mouth. Unnerved by her scrutiny, his tried his best to ignore her.

Buffy came back down the stairs. "All snug as bugs," she answered simply. "They must sleep like logs. Even I woke myself up back there, what with the screaming and all." She scrubbed her hands tiredly over her face.

"Why don't you get some sleep, Buffy," Giles said softly, moving to her side. She rolled her shoulders.

"Nah, I think I'm good for another few hours. Maybe even a patrol."

"Buffy." His admonishment was light, but she was unable to meet his eyes, instead watching as her baby sister crawled into Spike's lap. The vampire winced in pain as the child innocently stomped on a tender part of his anatomy.

"Oi, watch where you're going, Bit," he complained, but his annoyance melted away as the girl promptly fell asleep.

Buffy smiled and shook her head. "I think I must be dreaming this. This is really as surreal as it gets, isn't it." It wasn't a question.

"Quite," Giles replied, and he leaned down slightly to catch her eye. "I really think you should get some sleep."

The slayer shook her head and turned to head out of the room, passing into the darkness of the dining room and pausing to stare out the window into the night. "It wouldn't solve anything," she whispered. He had to strain to catch her words, and he followed her into the dark.

"There isn't going to be an easy cure, Buffy." They both knew he wasn't referring to the current Scooby situation. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, feeling suddenly resentful at his endless probing.

"Don't you think I've figured that out already? Give me credit for a little thought here, please!"

He blocked her exit and reached out for her. She shied away from him, and he felt his temperature rise inexplicably. With more force than he intended, he caught her by the shoulders and dragged her into the light of the hallway. "I wish I could solve this for you, Buffy," he said feelingly. "But this isn't a demon I can look up and show you how to slay. This is how real life goes, and sometimes there isn't an answer at the ready."

She laughed harshly and pulled away from him roughly. "You sound like an after school special, Giles. Except it's not everyday your friends violate you in the way they did me." She glared up the stairs, and the fury in her face surprised him.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I didn't realize."

She looked at him with contempt. "When would you ever? Do you think you know me?" She advanced on him, and he felt the doorway at his back. "You think I'm still the same flighty Buffy, don't you? The girl who only cares what the new cute boy in school thinks about me, if my outfit's still in season? Well, I haven't been that girl in a long time, Giles. This is just the final nail in the coffin." She pushed past him opened the front door, stomping out angrily.

He didn't allow himself to think about what he was going to say. Too long he had held back, and he followed her down the steps, yanking her by the arm to face him.

"I'm not the idiot you perceive me to be, either," he said fiercely. Her eyes widened as he glared down at her. "I never thought you were flighty, Buffy. What I saw was a beautiful, intelligent girl. A girl who I was sent to serve. I've trained you for years. I taught you how to think in battle. I helped hone your instincts. And I've been nothing but the butt of your jokes since I've started this. Well, I've changed, too. I've made sacrifices, more than I'd care to name."

"So you're blaming it all on me, too?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Believe me, Giles, I know what you've gone through. I held you that night at the factory, when you tried to kill Angel. I saw the way you looked after you'd been tortured. You hate it here, and you hate spending your time with me. So why don't you just go home, Rupert!"

His name on her lips sent a jolt through his system, and he took her by the shoulders, pulling her close to him, breathing heavily in desperation, trying to form words before she disappeared. "I wasn't saying that, Buffy. I've stayed for you. I've happily sacrificed to be here, beside you. I could never leave you alone, not just because it's my duty to remain as your Watcher, but because..."

Releasing her, he stepped back, fearing he had said too much. Emotion had always come hard to him, and declaring anything as important as this caused him to stutter, closing his throat in embarrassment. "Y-you _are_ my home, you silly girl."

Buffy stared up at him mutely, color rising to flush her cheeks. They stared at each other, and then she whirled and set off down the street, the pounding of her feet echoing in his ears.


	8. Knocking Some Sense

Chapter Eight: Knocking Some Sense

Spike stood at the door, the sleeping child in his arms, watching Buffy's frantic escape into the night. The Watcher stood staring after her, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets and his shoulders hunched in defeat. The man turned, and the bleak expression on his face would have embarrassed Spike if he'd been human. Luckily, he wasn't.

"Good show, Rupert," he said admiringly.

"Sod off," Giles grumbled, and moved past him into the house.

"Ah, no violence for me after our girl there takes the winds out of your sails, is there?" he taunted him. Giles turned abruptly and met his eyes.

"The only reason you're still standing is because you happen to be holding a small child in your arms, Spike," he grated. Reaching out, he took the girl from him a little too roughly, and she woke and began to cry, rubbing her eyes in the light.

"Very nice, Rupert," Spike sneered. "Hurt the Bit while you're at it. If Joyce were still here I'd suggest you take aim, so you can make your way through all the Summers women."

Giles set Dawn down on the floor and then pushed Spike against the wall violently. "Get. Out." The threat was clear enough, and with one last glance at the girl now wailing on the floor, Spike strode out onto the porch.

"Just don't think of calling me for free babysitting anytime soon, mate," he called over his shoulder.

"Wanker," Giles growled. After a moment, Dawn's cries registered, and he scooped her up in his arms. "I'm sorry, Dawn, I didn't mean to scare you." The girl struggled, looking over his shoulder out the door. Remembering to close it, he nudged it shut with his shoe. "I guess I should get you back to bed." He climbed the stairs wearily and entered the bedroom. Anya had spread out, hogging at least half the bed, and Tara had climbed out from beneath the covers to stretch horizontally across the foot of the bed, a couple fingers in her mouth. Willow and Xander were huddled together, small arms wrapped around each other comfortingly. Sliding Anya to the middle, Giles lay Dawn down and pulled the covers up to her chin.

"Your sister will be up in a while to kiss you goodnight," he promised, and the child dimpled at the thought, then rolled onto her stomach. He straightened and watched as her eyes fluttered shut. Sadness filled him as he took in the sleeping children. They looked so peaceful. When they broke the spell, there would be nothing but misery waiting for them. A part of him thought it wouldn't be such a bad idea to let the spell keep it's effect and let them start life anew from the beginning.

Except that would mean adding to Buffy's already strained shoulders. No matter what mistakes he wished to erase from the people in front of him, Buffy's needs eclipsed theirs. The first thing that needed to be accomplished was correcting what Willow had done. With any luck, he could fix everything here before Buffy came home.

If she came home, he thought grimly.

Buffy for her part had stopped running as soon as she reached the first cemetery. Unlike all the other times when she had needed to vent frustrations, there wasn't a demon or vampire in sight. If only she could stop thinking for a few hours, it would solve everything.

"Not everything," she muttered to herself. Giles' face floated before her mind's eye, his eyes filled with... She thrust the image away, stubbornly refusing to think about it. It was all too much. Now she had to deal with his feelings on top of her friends, on top of Spike's puppy dog act, on top of her new second life. She knew she had a tendency back in the day to be melodramatic, but these times called for a good knock down, drag out hissy fit. But that wouldn't solve anything. She stamped it down, condensed it into a ball of feeling, and locked it away.

She didn't notice the fist until she was sent reeling to the ground.

Someone yelled out in pain, and she opened her blurry eyes, fairly sure she hadn't made any noise besides a surprised 'oof'. The sight that met her was Spike holding his head a couple feet from her. Pulling herself up, she planted her feet and looked at him. After a moment, he dropped his hands from his face and glared at her angrily.

"Good thing I have this chip, isn't it, Slayer," he pointed out. She shrugged and began to walk away.

"Don't you turn you're back on me, you stupid bint!" he exploded angrily, and she stopped, sighed, and turned to face him.

"What, Spike?" she asked wearily. "Do you want me to kick you around for fun, or try to reenact our grand finale? Cause I'm leaning toward the kicking."

He sneered at her contemptuously. "You're not good for much anymore, are you?" She stared at him in surprise. "I think you'd be better off dead, myself. You're not much help to yourself, and we know you don't care for your precious Scoobies half as much as you did. Why don't you find some tower to hurl yourself off, save us all the bother?"

Anger began to radiate from her pores, and she stepped up to meet him. "Why don't you do it, Spike? You've always wanted a piece of me."

"I would, if it weren't for this bloody chip, believe me, Slayer," he assured her. "But that would make it too easy on you, and that's all you've wanted since you've been back, isn't it? Death? Another easy way out for poor little Buffy."

"You are so full of it, Spike," she shot back. "What are you trying to do, annoy me into killing you?"

The vampire shook his head, and the facade broke, leaving his face naked for her to see. His eyes were full of pity. His look scalded her, and she stepped away from him. He followed her, meeting her eye to eye.

"You can't take the pressure, so you take the easy way out last time with the tower, knowing full well that your job is to protect the world. What do you do? See the closest exit and head out full tilt."

"You think I should have sacrificed Dawn in my place? You're insane."

He shook his head angrily. "If you did it to save her, you'd be fighting now that you're back. Instead, you mope around like you've got nothing to live for. It's not like you came back from the grave without anything."

"I had peace!" she shouted. The strangled words echoed through the trees, and she wrapped her arms around her frame, subdued by her own outburst. Spike sighed, clenching his jaw and then relaxing.

"You did, and I reckon you deserved it," he agreed. "But that was then, this is now. You can't get that back by living half a life. You need to take a deep breath, acknowledge that you're pissed beyond belief at those friends of yours, and then move the hell on."

Buffy looked away from him. "It's not going to help."

"Have you even tried?" Green eyes met blue, and he continued. "I mean, have you really given it a go? Cause I think living in the same house as the woman who was responsible for your current misery seems a bit much, don't you think."

"It wasn't Willow's fault, really," she said weakly, knowing she didn't mean it. Spike stepped closer to her, staring down at her angrily.

"That's a load of crap, and you know it," he countered her. "The witch has been nothing but trouble since she started down this road, and she's finally gone too far. You know it, the Watcher knows it. The only person who has no idea is Red herself. And if you lot are her friends, you'll tell her she needs help. And give her a good arse kicking while you're at it. Deserves it, she does. And get the Whelp, while you're at it. Matter of fact, why don't you go all out and kick the hell out of all of them. It would make you feel better."

"No, it wouldn't."

"It would make _me_ feel better," he said hopefully.

At his tone, she laughed. She couldn't help it, she threw back her head and laughed. He stared down at her as she shook with mirth, waiting for her to calm down. "I'm sorry, Spike, I'm just thinking about all the things I've done in the past twenty four hours. I sang my heart out, I watched my friends become children, and had a heart to heart with my once sworn enemy." Wiping tears out of her eyes, she stared up at him. "Why haven't we killed each other yet?"

He smiled cockily. "You couldn't bear life without me, love."

"Try me," she dared him, smiling.

They turned and left the cemetery, brushing shoulders occasionally. Her mind was awhirl with thought, and he was content to be near her when she needed him. At least, he liked to think she needed him. Certainly the Watcher had been too consumed with his own love for the girl to be able to give her a talking to beyond burdening her further. But this was what enemies were for.


	9. Please Understand

Chapter Nine: Please Understand

Giles flipped through the spell book, trying to keep his mind on matters of importance, and having difficulty not worrying about where Buffy was. Most likely Spike had gone after her, the ruddy bastard. If he could just apply himself, he could neaten this situation up for her before she was back. Aware that he had cause her more pain by speaking to her angrily, he desperately wanted to help with something, anything.

His eyes caught the spell on the third go through the book. Written in Latin, his eyes skimmed the definition of the spell, entitled simply Laetabilis, roughly translated as joy. He read through it, then glanced around the bathroom. It was a fairly complicated spell to prepare, but to an adept of Willow's level, it shouldn't have been a problem. Of course, she had been in a hurry, most likely. And that was never a good way of preparing for something of this nature. The spell should have made Buffy, while still aware of what had transpired, happier in her situation. It was manipulation in its worse form, and he silently cursed the girl for tampering again in things she had no right to meddle with. Willow had clearly realized the mistake she had made, and instead of apologizing for it, had decided to take the easy route and deal with it by magical means.

The casting circle had been scattered over the bathroom floor to make way for bath time, and he began to gather the stones, setting them in the middle of the floor in a pile. The bowl she'd used had the residue of the potion in it, and he set it aside to analyze it later. He picked up a large stone and studied it briefly. It seemed to be Thulite, known widely as a heart-healing crystal, soothing emotional wounds. He set it down, frowning distractedly as he gathered scattered sticks from behind the sink. Thulite. Thulite.

"Thulite," he said aloud, staring into space. "Of course!" In excitement, he grabbed the book and glanced through the ingredients again. The focusing stone called for a blue sapphire, which was used literally to call forth joy. Obviously she hadn't possessed a blue sapphire, and substituted, thinking one would do just as well. Thulite also had other uses besides helping heart-break. It was used for helping children relieve memories that had caused heart-break.

Giles sat back, puzzled. It seemed strange that they should all be the same age... His mind whirled over the possibilities, and he reached for the bowl containing the leftover potion. There were half burnt sticks of hazel root. Looking back at the spell book, his eyes skimmed the ingredient list. It called for only one root. Sifting gingerly through the bowl, he surmised that there had been at least five roots thrown in.

"Damn and blast," he cursed vehemently. Not only had Willow meddled in something she shouldn't have; but in her excitement, she hadn't measured correctly, substituted the wrong stone, and endangered all of their lives. At least now he would be able to figure out a way of breaking the spell.

"Hopefully before anyone wants another bathroom break," he muttered to himself, pulling off his sweater to reveal a white undershirt. He would be working hard over the next hour, so he needed breathing space. Casting a glance out the door, he listened for sounds from the bedroom. All was silent.

"About bloody time," he said. "I'm too old to be living in a perennial circus."

After a half hour of study, he knew what needed to be done. Tara and Willow tended to keep most of the supplies in the living room cabinet, and he crept down stairs quietly. When he reached the living room, he jumped and let out a short shriek at Buffy sitting as still as a statue on the coffee table.

"Very manly," she smiled. He breathed a sigh of relief and walked past her, opening the doors and searching for the ingredients he would need.

"I've found a way to reverse the effects of the spell," he explained neutrally. Frankly, he was mortified over their last conversation, and feeling as she had already rebuffed his show of feeling, he was more comfortable on the normal business level they maintained as Watcher and Slayer.

Buffy watched his back sadly, knowing she had somehow hurt him. Spike's words had really hit her. She rubbed her jaw ruefully, thinking that wasn't the only thing that had jarred her. Leave it to Spike to resort to violence. At least he hadn't tried to kiss her.

She had left him without a word outside, shutting the door gently in his face. Giles' earlier words rushed over her, and she contemplated them as she sat in silence, hearing the sounds of footsteps and the rustle of papers from upstairs. With growing shame, she could recount the times just since she had been back when she had used him to deal with her mess. Leaving him with the bills so she could coddle Angel and reassure him everything was fine. Making him be the dad to Dawn when it was her own job as guardian to keep the younger girl in line. Taking money from him and referring to him as her mom had also seemed to hurt his feelings, she could see that now.

Setting the last ingredient down, he closed the doors and stared hard at the wooden doors, trying to read his next move in the grain of the oak before him. He could feel her eyes on his back, and inwardly resolved to make her speak first. Counting to ten, he decided that if she wouldn't say anything, he would go past her and break the spell. He owed her that much, as her Watcher. There was no other way he could help her, nothing else she wanted from him. Buffy had made that clear in her panicked flight from earlier.

Drawing in a deep breath, he bent down and gathered the supplies, only to be stopped by a gentle hand on his arm. He straightened slowly and looked down at her.

"Stay for a moment with me?" she begged softly. He followed her silently over to the couch and sat beside her, inwardly glad for the physical contact. They sat staring ahead for a few minutes, and then she surprised him by laughing shortly.

"God, this is so stupid," she said. Something in her voice arrested him, and he turned toward her to meet her eyes. They danced with some unshared joke. He must have looked confused, for she continued, "Back when we were fighting Glory, we could talk about everything. And here we are, unable to think of a whole sentence. It's sad after all these years."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, looking away from her. She touched his arm again, and he looked back at her.

"It's not your fault, Giles, it's mine," she said, a divot creasing her brow. "I really have been... I can't even come up with a word for what I've been going through since I've - been back. But I should have been able to talk to you."

He opened his mouth, ready to pardon any mistakes she had made readily, and she shook her head to stop him. "No, Giles, I can take responsibility here. What Willow and the gang did was wrong, and saying sorry won't help me forgive them." She looked away from him. "Having them here isn't helping me. I need time to heal. And Willow needs help."

"I know," he agreed. "I intend on talking to her when this is over."

"Not before I talk to them," she nodded. "I'm going to ask them to move out, Tara and Willow both. I need to concentrate on Dawn again." She looked up at him pleadingly. "I need you to help me, Giles."

A crushing weight threatened to steal what little breath he had, and he looked away from her, miserable. "I can't be your father, Buffy. I can't let you lean on me whenever it's too hard for you to," he managed.

"I know that."

Surprised yet again, he faced her, his lips parting, unable to form questions. She smiled at him again. "I don't need you to be a parent to me, Giles, I need a friend. And you're the only real friend I've got right now. That is, I'd like you to be my friend," she added shyly. He reached out and grasped her folded hands tightly.

"I'd do whatever I could to stop the pain you're going through," he said feelingly. "But I don't think I can do what you want me to."

She drew in a deep breath. "I'm not asking you to help me with bills and a job search here, Giles. I'm asking that you sacrifice a little more for me, if you could. I need to know you'll be here to talk to."

"I could always be on the other end of the phone line," he objected, standing up abruptly and walking a few steps away. "I don't think you realize what you're asking me to do, Buffy. I don't think I can stay here much longer."

There was no answer, and he looked back at her. She was standing now, her hands clenched in tight balls, and her eyes shining in the light with unshed tears. "I thought I was your home, Giles."

He blushed to recall his words. "I-I d-didn't mean..."

She moved to his side. "It's been a long time since you've stuttered, Giles. I've missed that." Alarm filled him as he realized that he was fighting a losing battle. "Buffy."

"Please, Giles," she beseeched him. "I'm not sure how I feel right now, except that without you here to anchor me, I might not be able to pull through. That's not emotional blackmail, believe me. I could do this without you. I just don't want to have to face the day when you're gone."

He stared down at her, and she nodded. "You think I didn't hear you singing to me, Giles? I'm not that far gone. I just couldn't handle what you were trying to say to me. You're not standing in my way, and I'm not asking you to lead me by the hand. I need a friend. I need my Watcher. I need you, Rupert Giles."

"That's the third time you've referred to me by my first name," he said wonderingly.

"It's this new thing I'm trying," she confided. "I'm trying not to take you for granted. Clueless Buffy still happens to visit often, but I'm trying to fix some things."

Unable to resist, he reached out and touched her cheek, much like the first time when he had greeted her return with awe and joy. "You've come back."

She nodded slowly. "I really have. I got a little lost on the way."

"How did - when did this happen?" he asked aloud, not expecting an answer. She smiled up at him.

"I had you here to yell at me. And Spike gave me a punch when I was down. Literally."

Tentatively, fearing she might turn tail and run, he folded her into his arms and pulled her to his chest, mindful of her recent attitude of distance. When her arms came out and embraced him in turn, he dropped his head to rest his lips against her hair. "I'm so sorry, for everything," he whispered. She shrugged against him, breathing in the scent that she had always defined as 'Giles'.

"It's not your fault, Giles." They remained still, not knowing who was holding each other up this time.


	10. Hello, Goodbye

Chapter Ten: Hello, Goodbye

All the ingredients were gathered, and the circle was set. It had been deemed easy to leave the children in bed, as they hadn't needed to be close to be affected earlier by the spell. Buffy hovered outside the bathroom door, frowning.

"Now, how did they all become children again?" she asked. He paused, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"The stone turns a person back physically to a time when they were hurt the most in childhood." Staring down at the ground, he decided it was better to tell her the truth. Meeting her eyes, he continued, "Xander used to spend a lot of nights on my couch before he had his own apartment."

"Yeah, I kind of guessed that," Buffy answered, thinking back to the times she had found Xander back at the apartment when she had checked in after patrols. Understanding intuitively that Xander didn't want to talk about it, she had never mention it to anyone.

Giles continued, his face darkening with pain and something akin to anger. "The boy was a restless sleeper, and I woke him from more than a few nightmares. When he felt like talking, I listened. Willow and he were fellow play mates at the local daycare, and became fast friends. She was allowed to spend the night with him when her parents decided that having a child along on one of her mother's psychological conferences would be too much of a hassle. That night when she stayed over, he thought it was very early, even before kindergarten, he did something to anger his father."

Her shoulders tightened. "He hurt Xander."

"In front of Willow. It was quite bad, apparently, and he was taken to the emergency room." Giles ran a hand over his eyes. "It was the first of many such punishments, I gather. Xander didn't like to talk about it much, but I surmised as much."

There was silence, and he finally looked over at her. Buffy's eyes were filled with tears, and she seemed to be barely holding them in check." "And so they were all turned three because...?"

Shaking his head, he readied the spell in front of him. "I can only guess that since Willow was the caster, and Xander was nearest to her physically in the living room as she began to speak, at least from what we saw when we came in, that her feelings and his domineered the group. They became a product of their first intense fears at the age of three."

"I think I might just run into Mr. Harris coming out of a bar some night soon," Buffy grated. Giles smiled grimly.

"I might just accompany you. I almost went over myself for a little...justice....But Xander always stopped me from going." His face took on a Ripper-ish glow, and Buffy shivered at the suppressed violence in his tone.

"Well, why don't we get this show on the road? I'm beat," she said, trying to sound chipper. Taking her cue, he nodded vigorously.

As Giles spoke the incantation, Buffy waited out in the hall, arms crossed and breathing in meditatively.

There was a bright flash as Giles finished the incantation, and then silence. Buffy frowned and then peeked into the bathroom. "Did it work?"

He stood up, working out the kinks in his back. "Feels like it did." As one they went into the bedroom. Tara's legs and head were thrown over both sides of the bed, no longer able to fit the small space with her adult body. Willow and Xander still cuddled close to each other. Anya chose that moment to stretch out again, knocking both Tara and Dawn to the ground with a careless leg and arm. The falling girls yelped, and Anya sat up quickly.

"Whaaa..." Xander murmured, staring at Willow as she blinked her eyes open slowly. There was a pause, and then they leapt away from each other, throwing Anya to the ground in an undignified heap onto Dawn.

"Ow!" the girl cried in pain.

"Why am I on the floor? And why am I wearing such tiny clothes?" Anya demanded, irritated. "Yeah, it's a bit drafty here," Xander said, glancing down to see the sparkly pair of shorts barely holding him in check. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around his waist.

"Welcome back, all of you," Giles said, amused despite the gravity of the situation. Willow pulled herself up and glanced around, her eyes filling with guilt. Catching the look, Buffy moved to the end of the bed, her arms on her hips. Her face was pinched with anger, but personally, Giles was glad to see the old fire burning in her eyes. It was a good start.

"I'll just explain quickly that Willow did a spell that went kablooey and changed you all into kids," Buffy stated, her jaw clenching.

"Another spell?" Tara cried out, dismayed. She pulled a sheet over herself and stood, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Willow avoided her eyes and stood up.

"It's not what you think, guys," she began quickly. Buffy held up her hand and stooped over to help Anya and Dawn to their feet.

"Are you okay, Dawnie?" she asked tenderly. The look on her face gave Dawn pause, and they stared into each others eyes for few moments. Finding what she was looking for, the younger girl's eyes filled with tears, and she leapt into her sister's waiting arms.

"You're back, you're back," she sobbed in relief. Buffy soothed her hair and glared over at Xander.

"Hey, quit checking out my sister!" The color rose in his cheeks, and he turned his face to the wall.

"I didn't see anything, Buff."

"Yeah, right." Pulling back, she smiled at Dawn, brushing her tears away gently. "It's been a long night. Would you mind giving me a couple minutes alone with the gang?"

Dawn's eyes darted over to Giles, and he nodded to her. Breathing out slowly, she shrugged. "Sure thing, sis. Just come say goodnight before you hit the sack, okay?"

"You betcha." Buffy smiled again and walked her to the bedroom door. When the younger girl's bedroom door closed, she paused and then drew in a deep breath.

"It's been a long night, like I said," she sighed. Turning, she faced the group with darkened eyes. "I need some time alone, and I'd like to ask if Willow and Tara could stay with you guys tonight, Xander?"

He nodded slowly, rising to his feet. "Sure thing, Buff."

Willow stood up as well. "Buffy, we are so sor - "

"Save it." The redhead closed her mouth and stared at her best friend in abject misery. Buffy shook her head tiredly.

"Look, guys, I just want to sleep for, like, a hundred years."

"Maybe we could gather for dinner tomorrow and discuss things?" Giles spoke up, making it a question as he looked down at her. She smiled at him gratefully.

"Sounds like a plan. Except no dinner. Let's meet here around five." The others nodded, in various states of apprehension. "Goodnight." She turned and left the room, knocking on Dawn's door and going inside.

Giles faced the gang and nodded grimly. "You heard her. Please gather your things and be off. It's been a rather trying night for us."

In Dawn's room, Buffy perched on the edge of her bed. "Do you remember anything that happened tonight?" she asked her sister. Dawn frowned from under the blankets.

"I remember splashing Giles with lots of water. And Spike carrying me all around the house..." Her eyes widened. "That is so totally weird."

"You have no idea," Buffy remarked. Leaning over, she pushed a lock of dark hair from her brow. "How are you doing, kiddo?"

"How did this happen, Buffy?" she asked in lieu of answering her question. "You seem...almost like yourself again." Her cheeks flushed at the words that came out of her mouth, but she continued to watch her sister, searching for an answer.

Buffy shrugged, unable to articulate all that had happened tonight. "I can't really explain, Dawn. Giles helped a bit, and even Spike."

"Is everyone gone?"

"Yeah." Off her look, she frowned. "Is that okay? I mean, if you want them to come back..." She couldn't finish the sentence, unable to ignore the pang it gave her to think of Willow under the same roof as them for another moment.

"No way," Dawn said angrily. "I don't want any of them living here. They're a bunch of jerks, and I hate them!"

"You don't mean that."

"I do. You don't like them either," she said hotly, sitting up in bed. "I can't believe you just asked me if it was alright for them to leave! I'm glad they're gone."

"So am I."

They smiled at each other for a few moments. "And, Dawn, if there's anything you need to talk about..." She looked away. "I'm not okay yet, I know it. But I want to try and help. I have to."

"Cause you're my sister."

"Yeah, that, and because I love you."

Dawn lunged forward and hugged her surprisingly hard. After a beat, she pulled back, alarmed. "You didn't make Giles go, did you?"

Buffy shook her head. "But if you want me to, I'll tell him to go." The girl shook her head, and Buffy let out a relieved breath.

"I like having him here," Dawn confided. "He's the only one who made me feel safe when you were gone." She picked at her bedspread, embarrassed.

"I know what you mean." They hugged again and then Buffy pushed her away gently. "You need to get some sleep."

"Stay with me until I fall asleep?"

She nodded, and watched her for the next half hour, staying past the time she knew the girl had truly gone to sleep, watching the way her eyelashes moved over the curve of her cheek, the peaceful smile curving her lips. Finally she stood, and left the room, closing the door behind her.


	11. Nightmares, Comfort, and Waffles Oh My!

Chapter Eleven: Nightmares, and Comfort, and Waffles (Oh My!)

The light was still on in the bedroom, and she approached the door cautiously, not wanted to run into any of the gang. She had heard their footsteps past the door, but was unable to believe they were truly gone. The sight that met her eyes made her smile faintly.

Giles, tired of waiting for her in the uncomfortable chair at the writing desk, had stretched out over the mussed sheets, his arms thrown over his head. Reflecting silently on the thought that she had rarely seen him in a t-shirt before, she moved forward and began to unlace his dress shoes.

"Better than the bloody couch," he muttered without opening his eyes. She laughed quietly.

"Sorry you had to stay on it," she apologized. The first shoe dropped to the floor, and she began to work on the second. "If I'd had the guts, I would have asked them to leave as soon as I was back, and you would have gotten this the first night you were here."

"So you say," he said, cracking his eyes open. She set the shoe down next to the other and moved up to sit next to him. His recovered glasses rested on the bedside table, and she ran a hand through his hair fondly.

"You'll stay here?" she asked, unable to meet his eyes. He caught her hand and held it.

"As long as you'll have me, Buffy," he reassured her solemnly. She nodded and then pulled away.

"I guess I'll see you in the morning," she said, suddenly awkward. He nodded, following her with his eyes as she left the room.

"Goodnight," he said softly.

He leaned over and flicked the bedside lamp off and was out before his hand hit the mattress.

Screams rent the night air, and he sat bolt upright, tossing the blankets to the floor. He leapt to his feet and dashed out the door, knocking Dawn aside roughly in his blind search. Grabbing the girl, he righted her and moved to Buffy's door.

"I've got it, Dawn," he assured her, and entered quickly. Dawn hovered anxiously in the doorway.

"She does this every week," she informed him. "It was better for awhile when you got back, but I guess after everything..." He reached Buffy's side and grasped her shoulders.

"Buffy, wake up," he said loudly, shaking her. She was covered in sweat, and her sleep shirt clung to her, twisted around her body along with the sheets.

Her eyes opened wide, and he leaned closer so that she could see his face in the streetlight coming in through her window. Gasping for breath, her eyes registered his presence, and he released her slowly.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded. Dawn leaned her head against the wall, her hands clenched in balls at her side. When would she ever be alright?

Giles pushed some strands of damp hair away from her face. "I'll be right back, okay?" Waiting for her nod of assent, he stood and moved out of the room. Dawn chewed on her thumbnail nervously, unsure of her welcome.

"Dawnie, please go to bed. It's alright," she said hoarsely. The girl looked uncertain, but seeing Giles return, she nodded and moved back to her own room.

The washcloth was cool as he wiped her brow and cheeks, his face a mixture of planes and shadows in the dark. She watched him as he busied himself with her care, running the cloth over her chin and down her neck. The strokes were firm yet strangely comforting, and her eyes began to drift shut.

"Thank you," she managed to whisper. Leaning down, he brushed his lips over her forehead, unable to stop himself. Her lips curved upward slightly, and then her breathing deepened in sleep.

Morning sunlight streamed into his face, and he pulled himself up, groaning aloud as his back complained loudly in creaks and pops. Obviously, he had failed in his duty to make sure Buffy slept through the night, falling asleep slumped over what felt like her legs.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up, Sleeping Beauty," a voice said, amused. He looked up and found Buffy watching him, bright eyed and alert.

"Ha bloody ha," he answered.

"BREAKFAST!" Dawn bellowed up the stairs with such force it caused him to slip from his tenuous space on the bed and hit the floor. The sound of Buffy's's laughter followed him down, and he glared up at the ceiling.

"I get extra waffles for that," he said pointedly. A hand reached down and hauled him unceremoniously to his feet. Buffy smiled up at him, her hair a messy halo around her head.

"You definitely deserve them," she remarked. He looked away from her, knowing she was talking about what he did for her last night. Unable to broach the subject, he cleared his throat.

"I don't suppose I can get the bathroom first?"

"Not on your life!" She dashed past him with a laugh and the door slammed shut, the water turning on in the shower. Sighing, he made his way gingerly down the stairs. Dawn was setting the dining room table, and she grimaced at him.

"You are so not a morning person, are you?" she said.

"How did you know?" he grumbled.

"You have, like, a thousand blanket creases all over your face," she pointed out airily, and went into the kitchen, coming back with a plate piled high with steaming hot waffles. He reached out to grab one and she rapped him sharply across the back of the hand.

"You have to wait until Buffy's down here," she said bossily.

"But, she's in the shower," he whined, unable to stop himself as his stomach growled loudly.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned, wide eyed in amazement, to see Buffy, hair still sopping wet, but freshly scrubbed and glowing, wrapped in a big robe.

"That's-"

"Isn't it crazy?" Dawn commented. "She showers like a dude when she wants to." At Buffy's glare, she shrank slightly. "That's what Xander said once. I have no idea how quickly a guy showers."

"That's my robe!" he finally said. She glanced down, frowning.

"Oh, I guess it _is_ too big to be one of the girl's." She looked up at him apologetically. "I hope you don't want it back now, cause I'm starved!"

His cheeks stained with red, and he turned to sit down at the table. "You just go ahead and eat, Buffy." She smiled winningly and then sat down across from him, tucking her feet underneath her in a childlike fashion.

"Goody, waffles!"

"You are so cool when you're happy," Dawn giggled at her. Buffy began to fill her plate. Breakfast that morning was more reserved without the rest of the gang, but was infinitely more sweet for Giles as he watched Buffy respond to all of Dawn's teenage chatter. The younger girl seemed to realize that it was too quiet, so spent as much time talking nonstop as Buffy did filling her mouth with food. She needed all the nourishment she could get. She had lost too much weight from her already small frame in the past weeks, he observed silently, not for the first time.

The day passed uneventfully, with Dawn putting on a musical extravaganza, as she referred to it. They spent the day in the living room, eating leftover waffles for lunch (Dawn had gone a bit overboard making breakfast.) and watching black and white Fred Astaire movies, to be followed with his personal favorite, Gene Kelly. When four thirty rolled around, Buffy stood and went upstairs without a word. She had refused to change into normal clothes and had remained huddled in his robe.

Dawn stood and turned off the tv with a flick of the remote and faced him, her face anxious. "When are they coming over?"

Glancing at his watch again, he sighed. "They'll be over in about thirty minutes." She nodded and stood, then began to pace. "It's going to be alright, Dawn."

"Yeah. I just want it to be over, you know?"

"I'm sure that Buffy feels the same."

Buffy came downstairs a few minutes before five, dressed in jeans and a dark blouse, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She sat down on the couch next to Giles and rested her head in her hands.

"I don't know how to do this, Giles," she moaned suddenly. He rested his hand on her back.

"Yes, you do," he affirmed. "You've known what to say for a long time, you've just been to apprehensive to do so until it reached this point. We need to think about helping Willow here as well as air out any other grievances." She smiled at him crookedly.

"You sure are fond of the long words."

"It's what sets me above you lot," he replied mildly.

Someone knocked on the door, and Dawn answered it. Pulling open the door, she stood aside wordlessly, pointing into the living room. Xander and Anya entered first, with Tara immediately behind them. Willow brought up the rear, and as they settled, it became apparent that she had spent a miserable night and day separated from the group, as they refused to look over at her. Dawn entered and sat at the desk, her legs crossed and her chin raised defiantly. When they had stilled, Buffy raised her head and stared at them.

"So. We need to have a talk."


	12. Stay With Me

Chapter Twelve: Stay With Me

Willow looked up at her finally and pulled in a shaky breath. "Buffy, we just wanted to say - that is, I just wanted to say, that I'm sorry. I should have found out more where you were instead of concentrating on bringing you back. I guess I didn't see the big picture. And now after everything, I'm losing the people that mean the most to me." She shot a despairing glance over at Tara, who refused to meet her eyes.

"We should all have thought about it," Xander said quietly. "It's not just Will's fault, we're all responsible."

"Well, I'm less responsible, because I did tell you all how dangerous the spell was," Anya objected. Tara shook her head, frowning fiercely.

"I should have stopped her. I k-knew from the beginning it was a bad idea. But I was s-so..."

"Scared of Willow?" Dawn offered bluntly. Buffy shook her head at her.

"Before this gets out of hand, I just wanted to say that first of all, I love you guys," she quickly pointed out. It was hard to sit still, even with the calming influence of Giles' presence, and so she rose to pace in front of the coffee table.

"What's done is done. No one can go back and alter what happened. And no one has the right to do that," she said, glancing at Willow's bent head. "I want all of you to promise me that you will never do anything like this again."

"You can guarantee we won't," Xander agreed readily. Anya and Tara nodded their assents.

"We couldn't anyway," Willow said meekly. "That was the last urn I could find."

"You need to stop!" Buffy burst out angrily, feeling the color rising to her face. There was a stunned silence as everyone registered that her words were filled with more emotion than they had seen from her since she had been back. Willow managed to meet her eyes.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted to help you," she protested.

"You wanted to help yourself!" Tara spoke up suddenly. Willow swung to face her girlfriend, her face stung. "You have a problem, Willow, and it's already hurt Buffy, and last night it could have hurt all of us. You've been doing magic recklessly, and you need to control yourself before it gets out of hand."

"You _have_ been dipping into the magic basket a lot, Will," Xander pointed out gently. Willow jumped to her feet.

"Quit attacking me!" she said, her eyes flashing in anger. "I know I was wrong, okay? But I was just trying to fix it!"

"You can't fix everything with a simple incantation, Willow," Giles asserted firmly, rising to his feat as well. "You need help."

"What I need is for you to get off my back, Giles," she snapped in return.

"Alright, calm down!" Buffy said, stepping in between them. She turned wide eyes on her friend. "Can't you hear yourself? You're yelling at Giles. I heard what you said to him the night he came back, too. You threatened him. What's happened to you?" She reached out and took hold of Willow's hand.

"Believe me. I am as angry with the rest of the gang, but I'm mostly worried about you," she pleaded with the witch. "Giles knows what he's talking about; he's not trying to attack you. Why can't you listen to us? We love you more than anything, and we're all worried."

"Y-you need help, Willow," Tara stammered. Willow remained tense, and then she suddenly sank down into her chair, her hand going to her face. Buffy squeezed the hand in hers and knelt in front of her.

"Listen to us, Willow," she whispered. "We love you."

"I don't," Anya shrugged unfeelingly.

"Anya doesn't, but the rest of us do," Buffy hastily amended, shooting Anya a glare over her shoulder.

"You're right," Willow managed at last, her face stricken. "I need help. I - I can't stop it anymore."

Giles strode forward. "I'll help you," he offered.

"Yes, please help the powerful witch before she kills us all," Anya chimed in.

Buffy stepped away from her with a final squeeze and glanced up at Giles. He smiled encouragingly at her and she squared her shoulders. "I have to ask you guys for a favor." She caught Dawn's gaze and smiled at her slightly before turning back to them. "I need time to heal. I want you guys to move out," she turned to Tara, her face sad. "I don't want to leave you without a place to stay, and I appreciate all you've done for Dawn while I was...gone." A painful swallow. "But I'm back now, and I have to make Dawn my priority. She's my sister, and I can take care of her now. We need time to be a family again."

Tara nodded understandingly. "I have a place I can stay." Willow shot her a pained glance, but she ignored her. "I need some time away, too."

Xander rose, pulling Anya to her feet. "We understand Buffy. Just do me a favor and call if you need anything. We can always vid fest it into the wee hours of the morning if you need a Dawn break."

She smiled at him. "Thanks, Xand."

"You could pick up smoking," Anya said helpfully. "I hear it's a worthwhile habit to start if you have stress. Though it does leave all that disease behind. But with your life span, I wouldn't worry about it!" she added brightly.

"Thanks for the suggestion. I'll take it into consideration," she grimaced.

Giles caught Willow by the shoulder and pulled her aside. "Where will you be staying?" he asked softly. She shrugged, not able to meet his gaze.

"Oh please," Xander scoffed. "Willow's gonna stay at my place until she finds a place of her own." Willow glanced up at him, relieved.

"What about all of our living room sex?" Anya burst out. "I am not having orgasms in front of her!"

"Please don't," Willow said weakly. Xander pulled his girlfriend away, mortified.

"I will give you a call in a couple days," Giles continued, pretending he hadn't heard Anya's words. "We'll start work then." Willow nodded, and he hugged her tightly. "You can get through this, I promise."

She nodded slowly. "I guess."

Tara left first, promising Dawn she would call so they could get together for lunch. Anya and Willow left together, Xander lagging slowly behind them. Buffy followed them to the door, and he turned before he left.

"Thank you for everything last night, Buffy," he said quietly. She paused and met his eyes, which were damp and filled with pain. It reminded of the look he had given her as a child, thinking that she would strike him, and pain lanced through her in remembrance. She reached out and pulled him to her, his arms creeping around her back quickly.

"Love you," she said. He tightened his arms convulsively and then stepped away, swiping at his face.

"Got some dirt in my eyes," he responded gruffly. "Love you too. See you around, Dawnster!" He waved at Dawn in the doorway and then turned and bounded down the steps.

The door swung shut slowly, and Buffy leaned against it, breathing a sigh of relief. A hand rested on her shoulder. "You handled that remarkably well, Buffy."

"Thanks, it was my first time," she said. Turning, she looked from him to Dawn.

"Should we do Chinese or pizza?"

"I'm going to have to teach you to cook," he groaned, heading for the phone.

"You could just cook for us," Dawn supplied brightly.

"In a pig's eye."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means I'm not going to be your sodding maid whenever you feel like it."

"Does sodding mean the same thing as buggering?"

"Where did you hear that from?"

"Spike."

"Of course, the wanker."

"What does wanker mean?"

Buffy smiled as they went back and forth.

That night, Giles flicked the light off in the bedroom, settling in with a deep sigh. He was going to sleep like the dead. His belly protested slightly as he shifted, and he bemoaned the third helping of General Tsao's chicken he had eaten.

There was a light knock on the door, and he sat up.

"Come in."

Buffy stood in a baggy shirt and shorts, her hair tumbling haphazardly down her back. "I needed to talk to you about something you said last night before I fell asleep," she explained quickly.

He reached out for the light but hesitated as she stepped closer. "Of course."

She paused and then looked down at the floor, debating. He waited patiently for her to speak. "When you said I was your home... Did you mean that?"

Mincing words in this case wouldn't help, so he answered firmly, "Yes, I did."

"Oh." She shifted, her hand reaching up to brush through her hair nervously. "I'm glad. But I just wanted you to know that you don't have to stay if you don't want to." Her face turned away, and he could tell it cost her much to utter the words.

"How could I be happy anywhere else, Buffy?" He chided her warmly. She could hear his smile in the darkness and moved closer to the bed.

"Buffy?" He could tell there was more on her mind.

"I - I was just wondering if..." She took a deep breath. "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

There was a pause, and then he tossed the covers back. "This is your house, you may sleep wherever you wish. I'll just sleep in your bedroom, if that's alright? Just so I don't have to sleep on that bloody couch again." A hand stopped him as he began to rise, and he paused, confused.

"I thought - "

"I meant, could I sleep in here with you tonight?" she amended shyly.

Giles froze, painfully aware that his heart was thundering in his chest. She couldn't possibly mean what he thought she meant.

"I thought it would be nice if I could just stay here with you," she said. "I don't mean...anything like...." He could almost feel her blushing in the dark. "I just wanted to see what it was like, I guess. Is that alright?"

"Whatever you want, Buffy," he answered softly. The bed dipped as she climbed in and he draped the covers over her as she scooted down to rest against the pillow. When she had finished moving he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, unable to relax with the heat of her body so close to his. Inwardly he was glad he had chosen to wear jogging pants to bed tonight instead of his usual boxer shorts. How in the world was he going to be able to sleep with her so close?

"Giles?" He could barely make her out in the dark, her face turned toward him.

"Yes?" he asked, cursing the tremor in his voice.

"Could you...hold me?"

After a moment he rolled closer to her, reached out and placed his arms around her. Breathing out slowly, he gently enfolded her in his arms and pulled her to him. The silk of her hair brushed against his neck, and he trembled slightly as she wrapped a small hand around his arm, burying her face in his chest.

"This is so nice," she said wonderingly, her breath tickling him.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" he mused, raising a hand to touch her head. Remembering what Dawn did to soothe her sister last night, he began to run his fingers through her hair, lulling them both into a peaceful calm with the movement.

"Love you, Giles," she mumbled against him finally.

"I love you, too, Buffy," he replied. Just as he registered that she had fallen to sleep, it claimed him as well, pulling him down into a dark tide of warmth, where he could feel her heart beat against his, and smell the scent of her hair against his cheek. She was here, and she was safe.

He was home.

THE END


End file.
